Loving Potter
by Gueneviere
Summary: Voldemort is dead. The war is over. Hermione has resurrected Sirius and the Potters using an obscure reversal form of the love protection magic. Everything is perfect! But then why is it that Lily has a lover and that James is going to hell? HIATUS.
1. Going to Hell

**1**

**GOING TO HELL**

**_Loving Potter_**

* * *

_"How easily he forgives, _

_That judge who has been a criminal."_

**–_ Calderón de la Barca; Life is a Dream._**

* * *

He was going to hell. 

That much James Potter knew for sure as he paced around the red and gold main study of Potter Manor, Wiltshire.

He felt like punishing himself; maybe he could summon an elf and ask for tips.

His deep hazel eyes wandered from the stone wall besides the chimney, to his eighteenth century rosewood desk.

He promptly resumed his pacing; slamming his head against something wouldn't help. It was too cliché for his liking, anyways.

James bit on his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. He sighed and finally plopped himself on a red loveseat, cradling his head with both hands.

He was going to hell.

Isolde, his snowy owl, ululated from its perch by the window, and he knew she was agreeing with him. Wise pale grey eyes regarded him intently as the strong winds coaxed whispers from the autumnal leaves.

It was a rather lovely night, really. Moonless, but the bright stars hanged delicately from the celestial draperies like little fairy-lights.

The eldest Potter still felt like loosing his lunch all over his expensive Persian carpet, though.

"JAMES!" A sharp yell brought him off his pity-party.

"JAMES, I'M GOING OUT WITH A FRIEND!" Lily Potter bellowed from the first floor and slammed the front door without waiting for a reply.

James didn't bother himself wondering who _a friend_ was.

He already knew his wife would be meeting his fellow Marauder and best friend Remus Lupin.

He also knew she would be meeting him in his _house_.

In addition to this, he was perfectly aware that there wouldn't be much _going out_ happening.

He sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed his temples.

Seventeen-year-old James Potter would be probably be screaming insanely at Lily and beating the crap out of the werewolf; this James Potter, however, couldn't even find it in himself to be angry at them.

Honestly, he was just waiting for Lily to gather up the courage to inform him about the affair to divorce her and give them his blessing.

Plus, it wasn't as if it came from nowhere. At Hogwarts, Remus had liked Lily for longer than him; since third year, he thought. And he was quite certain Lily had had a small crush on the 'sensible Marauder' too. They had always gotten along, did homework together and discussed books. The redhead had only come to stand _him_ in seventh year.

But why wasn't James Potter throwing a fit?

Lily and him had been very happy for the first two years of their marriage; they had wedded straight out of Hogwarts and in the midst of a war, so there hadn't been much time to fight. Then, just a year after, Lily had gotten pregnant and they had been so excited!

However, since their deaths – or well, their resurrections, really – the Potters' marriage had been less than blissful. At first they fought a lot; neither felt things worked anymore and they were both angry their expectations on the other were left unfulfilled.

Luckily, due to the vast gardens of their manor and the manors around it, their screaming matches were not heard by their neighbors. They continued to pose as the ideal, perfect, happy family.

Their close friends knew better though.

The only times when their relationship was like it used to be was when Harry came home, first from Hogwarts and now from Auror training. Their son was so delighted to have his parents back, and the Potters were so delighted to be back for their son, that all their marital woes were forgotten.

Nowadays, though, Harry never stayed for more than a couple of weeks every summer and a few random weekends along the year. Auror Academy was pretty demanding.

The situation got worse and worse as the months passed, until suddenly, the fights stopped.

It wasn't that they solved their issues; it's just that they stopped fighting.

Lily simply started to ignore him.

Nevertheless, she looked almost happy.

Satisfied.

And a little guilty.

It was then that James figured out that his wife was having an affair.

Then Remus started to look very happy.

Satisfied.

And very guilty.

It was then that James figured out that his wife was having an affair_ with Remus._

At first, James had felt quite betrayed.

Angry.

And a little sad.

But he had sighed and tolerated it.

Then _it_ had happened.

Then he had realized he was going to hell.

And he had stopped feeling betrayed, angry and sad.

For people going to hell do not get the luxury of condemning people for their lesser sins.

-

_**TBC**_

* * *

_**A/N **: The chapters will eventually get longer, don't worry about that._

_Reviews are welcomed and encouraged._

_Cheers,_

_Gueneviere._


	2. An Innocent Letter

**2**

**AN INNOCENT LETTER**

**_Loving Potter_**

* * *

It had all started with a letter from Harry. 

Who would have thought that such an innocent piece of paper would become the first stone on his luxuriously-paved road to hell?

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_How are you all doing? I'm pretty good, Auror Academy has been hard but I've been passing all my courses. Ron has been having a bit of trouble, and is specially annoyed that Malfoy is still beating him on Defensive Potions. But don't worry, Mum, Hermione is helping him, so I'm sure he'll make it through. You should see _her_ grades, though! I swear it, my girl's a genius. They've just offered her a full scholarship instead of her old partial one. I didn't even know they offered full scholarships, but if they didn't I wouldn't be surprised if they invented it just for her. Ron says they would probably pay her to stay if she tried to leave the academy, and I'm sure he's right._

_Anyways, mum; I don't really care which color you redecorate my room in. I'm sure red, blue or green would all be lovely. _

_Dad; polish our brooms! Hermione lost a bet to Ron and owes us a Quidditch game!_

_Please send Padfoot and Moony my hellos._

_See you next weekend!_

_Love,_

_Harry._

_PS 2. I know it's only for three days, but can I take Ron and Hermione, please?_

Of course they had said yes. Why wouldn't they?

James had the most amazing Quidditch discussions with Ron, who was still obsessed with the Chudley Cannons even though they still didn't seem to be winning any matches. Lily, on her part, loved baking for the redhead, who would eat voraciously anything she put on his plate.

And with Hermione, there was no question; they loved their son's girlfriend to death, and not just because she had been the one to realize love protection magic could probably work both ways and had thus returned Lily, James and Sirius from the dead.

Of course they were infinitely grateful, for she gave them another chance at loving Harry; at watching him grow up and become a young man.

But that wasn't it.

Lily had found in Hermione something she never really had in Hogwarts; a girlfriend – and one that enjoyed books over makeup!

James… well, James didn't really know why he liked Hermione so much. It wasn't as if she liked Quidditch or pranks – which he found quite amusing since she was a pretty decent flier (Auror Academy had made her realize so) and had a knack for breaking the rules while keeping her good girl image.

Actually, she was a little like Moony and would generally roll her eyes along with the werewolf and Lily when Harry, Ron, James or Sirius did something stupid.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe he liked her because she was so much like Lily.

Young Lily.

The one he fell in love with.

Now that he thought back, comparing Hermione Granger with Lily Evans should have been the big red 'Danger' sign, angry flashing lights included.

He should have known then that things would go horribly wrong.

He should have known he was going to crash and burn.

He didn't though.

* * *

And so, Lily Potter had written back to Harry, telling him his room was now decorated in forest green, but that they could always change it if it was too Slytherin for his taste. 

Sure, because it had _not _cost a fortune, right?

She had also said it was perfectly fine to bring the other two thirds of the Golden Trio over for the long weekend, but to make sure Mrs. Weasley was told and that Hermione brought with her that copy of The Eneid the girl had told Remus she had just read.

James had decided it would be unwise to ask how Lily knew Hermione had recommended said book to Lupin, especially because _he_ hadn't seen the Marauder in two months.

She had added that maybe she could invite Severus over for Sunday dinner so that he could help Ron with his Defensive Potions class.

James had snorted at that. Of course Snivellus would come for dinner if he was invited by Lily, they were rather close now. But he was also pretty sure neither the Potions Master nor Ron would appreciate the arrangement.

She had ended the letter sending her son their love, and that was that.

Five days later, the Golden Trio apparated onto the Potters front lawn.

-

_**TBC**_

* * *

_**A/N** : Like it? Hate it? Review and let me know! Don't worry about the length, though; this is chapter 1 ½. Next one will be nice and (relatively) long._


	3. Breakfast at Potter's

_**A/N**: I'm sorry I haven't been able to update sooner, but senior year is hard and the IB is driving me insane._ _My special regards to: Ginny-Potter-132, F75, Bambi Eyes 14, atruwriter, Wickedswanz, FayeLibra2317, twitchylittleferret, rainfromheaven, Viktor Krum's lazyllama101Riceball-san, tutucute4u, and to all of the other **318** readers who checked out the fic, but didn't review (I'm hurt, guys! sniff...)_

_Anyways, enjoy!_

**3**

**BREAKFAST AT POTTER'S**

**_Loving Potter_**

* * *

"JAMES!" A frazzled Lily Potter yelled as she came in through the front door of Potter Manor and into the hall, levitating several bags of groceries before her. "JAMES!" 

"Merlin, Lily, is the ear-splitting shrieking really necessary?" the black-haired man asked tiredly, sitting in the dining room, ten feet away from his wife. He wore light blue pajama bottoms and a white wife-beater. His hands cradled a simmering cup of black coffee.

Lily frowned and waved her wand, sending the groceries to the kitchen for the house-elfs to sort out. Then she turned, her red braid flipping with the momentum.

"_Quite_." She informed him, emerald-green eyes flashing in annoyance. "Harry's here."

James's head snapped up.

"The kids apparated onto the garden gate when I was opening the door!" She continued, in a now slightly frantic tone.

"Damn,"

"Language," Lily had replied automatically, making James smile slightly. She had always admonished him for cursing, and it was one of the few things that hadn't changed as their marriage broke down.

An angry '_James_!" broke him out of his reverie.

"Huh?"

"JAMES, you haven't even changed yet!"

Right.

Fuck.

But wait.

James glanced at his watch… ugh.

"Of _course_ I haven't it's barely seven thirty in the morning!" he defended himself. '_Only wacky people like you go shopping and bother the stores' house-elfs at these ungodly hours of the morning_', he felt like adding, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Harry's _always_ early, James! You know they wake those poor kids at five, school or no school." Lily replied, waving her wand to arrange her hair on a low bun, while applying lipstick with the left hand.

"Oh. That's right. I had forgotten about the buzzing pillows." James said pensively as he remembered his own Auror training. "Horrible, _horrible_ invention, that one," he shivered.

Lily stared at him, she clearly hadn't been listening. "JAMES! For Merlin's sake, what on earth are you still doing here? Go change! Now! I'll ask the elves to fix the kids some breakfast." The woman cried and pushed her frowning husband towards the stairs, barely giving him time to put his coffee down.

"_Fine_!" He replied moodily, like a teenager who has just been punished. Lily didn't acknowledge his tantrum so he scowled and entered their room, closing the door noisily behind him.

* * *

Eight minutes later, James Potter raced down the stairs in a rush.

He was wearing a simple grey polo shirt and black slacks which he fervently hoped looked well enough together.

Not that he cared about clothes much, mind you. And Harry would most definitely not notice.

Lily would, though, and he didn't fancy being yelled at tonight about his lack of color-matching abilities.

It was true that lately, his wife wasn't picking fights with him anymore, but her attitude changed drastically when his son came to stay over at the Manor.

When Harry was home, everything had to be _perfect_, as if a burnt toast or a stained carpet would hint Harry on his parent's conjugal troubles.

He sighed. He could hear Ron laughter coming from the terrace.

* * *

Harry Potter eyed a scowling Hermione Granger warily, but swiftly turned his attention to the basket of pastries before him when the girl raised an eyebrow at him.

The house-elfs had done a lovely job this morning setting up breakfast and their cooking was exquisite, as usual. Moreover, The Manor's gardens were charmed so the weather was pretty much like it had been last spring. Things were great; the birds were chirping musically, and his mother looked happy to see him, and the coffee was just like he liked I, and everything would have been quite perfect, actually, if it hadn't been for Ron and his description on how –

"Malfoy had it coming!" The redhead proclaimed and theatrically waved his fork around to make his point.

Hermione had to put her Auror training in use to duck the piece of bacon flying her way.

"Ron…" Harry tried to warn him tiredly, hoping against all odds that his best friend would, for once in his life, show some tact and shut the _bloody_ hell up.

"No, Harry, _really_! Just who did he think he was, saying I was '_slower than _Goyle'? Veritaserum is hard to brew, dammnit!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry thought she must have been remembering how Ron had chosen to sweet-talk Climenestra Harrington the day before that particular test instead of memorizing the pertaining potions' formulas.

"Anyways, he was being a bloody git, nothing new there," Ron muttered, but then brightened up considerably as he threw Harry a sly smile that didn't look quite right on his honest face, "so we decided to teach him a lesson and we–"

Harry, green eyes alight in amusement, shoved a blueberry scone on his mouth to stop himself from grinning.

If Ron had a dead wish, it was his funeral.

Making fun of Malfoy was definitely not worth sleeping in the couch for a week; especially since he had just been granted the right to return to his girlfriend's bed… she had been rather angry after Ron and him had–

"–transfigured him into a ferret again!" Ron spoke to a frowning Lily Potter excitedly.

Yes, he had expected his mother's look of disapproval. She was very much like Hermione, after all.

"And then we dressed him with a frilly pink cap!" Ron roared with laughter, "Merlin, we even took pictures: it was _brilliant_!"

Maybe not _so_ brilliant, Harry thought…

"Sure, Ronald, it was also _highly-intelligent_ of you to let him loose on the _girls' locker rooms_!" Hermione bristled, cheeks flushed in anger. "The git saw me _naked_!"

… Definitely _not_ so brilliant.

"Well, 'Mione, you _did_ go out with the slimy bastard last year, so it's not like–"

Ron managed to duck Harry's whack, but not Hermione's rather fast hex.

* * *

James Potter came onto the terrace to greet a shrieking, donkey-eared Ronald Weasley.

He laughed heartily as a chuckling Lily Potter led the red-faced young man to the Library, presumably to find a counter-spell for the hex, since she knew Hermione would not tell.

James turned to his grinning son, and enveloped him in a hug, "How're you doing, Harry, son?"

"Never better, dad," The Boy-Who-Lived answered with a brilliant grin as he leaned towards his slightly flushed girlfriend, snaking an arm around her small waist, "you'll never get tired of transfiguring various parts of his body into that of a _donkey_, will you?" He asked the girl, smiling teasingly.

"Of course _not_, Harry. It's quite _fitting_, I think," she replied smartly, before turning to James, who was looking at her a bit oddly. "Good morning, Mr. Potter, I hope we didn't wake you up, I tried to tell the boys to wait but you know how they are and well… are you okay, Mr. Potter?"

James suddenly realized he had been staring at the girl and blinked in surprise, lost for words.

_What had just happened?_

"'Mione, you know he hates you guys calling him '_Mr. Potter_', specially since he's only six years older than us," Harry intervened and James was very grateful.

_Grateful?_

Hermione shrugged, slightly tanned shoulders looking beautiful against her simple white sleeveless shirt. Her long, wavy toffee-brown hair fell down her back, and her almond-shaped dark eyes gleamed in confusion and speculation as he continued to stare.

_Beautiful?_

He quickly took his sit, trying to dismiss the strange weight on his gut. Unfortunately, his breakfast had been served next to the brunette witch, and tried as he might, he could not stop his mouth from going dry quite suddenly.

Before he could rationalize what he was feeling, he had the distinct impression he had never been gladder of having spent sixteen years dead.

_Why?_

James Potter grabbed a spoon and tried to focus his attention on his oatmeal.

"It doesn't matter, Harry, I owe him respect," Hermione argued back. "He's still your _father_, you know."

_Oh, right._

_Damn._

-

**_TBC_**

* * *

_**A/N**: **Much**_ _more action on the next few chapters, that's a promise. _

_Well now: **Imperio**! **Review**!_


	4. Caught Entertaining

**4**

**CAUGHT ENTERTAINING**

**_Loving Potter_**

* * *

"Bishop to B6," James Potter said nervously, hoping against hope that Ron wouldn't go for his— 

"Knight to B4," the redhead replied instantaneously.

—Queen.

James cringed as he watched the white figurine of the knight savagely slay his black queen. The figurine let out a shrill cry that made him seriously reconsider the advantages of Wizarding chess.

"It's impossible to beat Ron Bilius Weasley at chess," a melodious feminine voice informed him.

"It's a well documented fact," Ron agreed from across the table, a smirk tugging his lips.

James pouted, then rapidly stopped when Hermione sat down next to him in the couch.

He didn't want her thinking he was childish.

Because he was his son's girlfriend, you see. He had to give her a good impression, after all.

"Oh, really?" he replied as he commanded his tower to crush one of Ron's bishops.

"Yes, really," Ron stated with a maniacal grin as his horse slew James's king. "Oh, checkmate," he added as an after thought.

James crossed his arms and grumbled darkly.

Hermione stifled a giggle.

"Aw, don't be such a sore loser, James," Ron laughed as he raised and pulled a burgundy Weasley sweater over his head. "I think I'm going to join Harry outside," he said, grabbing his broom—Harry's old Firebolt—on his way out. He turned before he closed the wooden door behind him, sending Hermione a hopeful glance, "Will you come, too, 'Mione? You owe me, you know…"

"Ugh, Ron, don't remind me," the girl moaned, covering her eyes with a hand. She sighed theatrically, as though she was doing him a great favor, before she added, "I'll go after tea."

"Fine, but you said two hours, remember!" Ron called as he closed the door.

Hermione laughed and turned to eye James, who was watching her, wanting to tell her how pretty her laugh was.

"Nice weather, huh?" he said instead.

Merlin, he sounded lame.

Bugger, he was so good chatting up girls at Hogwarts, what had happened to that James?

Not that he was chatting up his son's girlfriend, of course not.

He only meant that— well, he used to be so smooth, damn it! What was it with this girl that brought out the moronic, self-conscious part of himself?

"Oh yes, beautiful," she replied, and smiled again.

She had a really pretty smile too. White, even teeth and full rosy lips. She seemed to be wearing some kind of sparkly lip gloss…

Suddenly realizing he had been staring at her mouth for entirely too long, James rapidly tore his gaze of her face, and fixed his eyes on something else… anything…

The ceiling… no, that would look silly… a lamp… no… er… the _chessboard_. Perfect.

They fell silent. For some reason, James was extremely uncomfortable, and tapped his fingers on his knee to avoid fidgeting.

Where had 'arrogant, self-confident James' gone, for Merlin's sake?!

Hermione didn't seem to mind the silence, though, and she seemed content to watch out the window, where Harry and Ron were tossing a quaffle to each other.

"It's on days like this one that I know it was all worth it," the brunette said softly, almost to herself.

"Worth it?" James asked, his interest piqued.

"Yes. Worth the war, worth the deaths, worth the pain, the fear and the dread…" she replied vaguely. She turned to face him and smiled sadly, "it was all worth it if only for us to enjoy quiet afternoons like this one… for Ron to be able to beat everyone at chess once more… for Harry to be able to catch another cold flying without a sweater on…" she finished with a grin James felt like simulating.

"I'm sure your parents would be proud of you," he said impulsively, regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth.

Her parents' death was a very sensitive subject for Hermione, especially because she felt it had been her fault for not being there to protect them against the Death Eaters.

Why the hell he had felt compelled to remind her again of her loss, James didn't know, it had just felt like the right thing to say.

_Wrong_

He bit his lip and looked at her anxiously, Hermione's eyes were fixed on her best friends, who were still goofing around outside, but her stare was unfocused and James could discern tears welling up on her dark brown eyes.

_She was crying! He was such a s__tupid, idiotic, foolish, daft, dim-witted, brainless, Slytherin—_

"Thank you," she whispered softly, her voice tinged with more feeling than he would ever expect to be directed to him.

Hermione turned to stare at him fully. A small, delicate-looking smile grazed her lips.

—_genius!_

He started to speak again, not in the least knowing from where these words were coming.

"We were proud of Harry—Lily and I—when we were… when we weren't…"

She nodded understandingly, her smile growing absentminded. "Of course, that's part of the reason why I worked so hard to bring you back—so that you could show Harry how proud you were of him."

A cold wave of an irrational disappointment hit him hard in the gut. "Of course," he agreed bitterly.

She nodded and closed her eyes, that dreamy smile still playing in her lips. "So where's Lily?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

Feeling oddly unsettled by his wife's name, James scowled to the though of who Lily was spending time with at the moment.

"Visiting Sniv—Snape," he said crossly, "She's inviting him to join us for dinner tomorrow night at that new italian restaurant Emmeline Vance was raving about the last Order meeting—_Lucernario_, was it?" He sighed, and racked a hand through his messy black hair. "Padfoot and Lupin are going too—it's not going to be pretty."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his choice at naming his werewolf friend, but besides eying him speculatively, she did nothing.

She was quiet for a second and joined him at staring at the chessboard—he had started to do that whenever they fell quiet so that he wouldn't be distracted by Hermi—_stuff_.

"You're much like your son, you know?" She said out of the blue, not noticing his subtle cringe.

It's not that he wasn't extremely proud of Harry turning out like him; he loved it. But that was exactly the point! _Harry_ was like _him_. He was sick of people saying things like "Oh my, you look so much like Harry Potter! You could pass as his twin!"

It didn't help that he had died young so that when he was revived he was merely six years older than his son.

James scowled and looked out the window to catch the sight of Harry diving for the quaffle and missing it.

A smile crept to his lips. His son was a brilliant Seeker, but a mediocre Chaser and for that he was glad. He didn't think he would stand being compared to him in Quidditch too. This way Harry could shine, and he could be proud, not bitter.

Suddenly, he realized Hermione hadn't expanded on her observation. "Why do you say that—that I'm much like Harry, I mean?"

"Oh, well, many reasons," She was quiet and thoughful for a second. "But I mentioned it because you seem to hate that Lily's friends with Professor Snape just as Harry hates that I'm friends with Draco," the girl explained, as she gathered her toffee-brown hair and braided it with care.

"Well, that's different—you dated Malfoy, didn't you? As your current boyfriend it's only natural that he is displeased that you still spend time with your ex," he defended Harry, not knowing exactly why. Must be a fatherly thing. "And I'm pretty certain Lily hasn't dated Sni—_Snape_ behind my back."

He let out a nervous laugh. He _was_ pretty certain, right?

Hermione looked pensive again as she finished her braid and tied a bright blue hair band around it. "Maybe, but it can't be the whole reason, he hated that I was friendly to him even before we started dating." She turned away to watch the boys out the window. "And the thing is, Draco was pretty pleasant at that time—not at all the obnoxious git he was before he joined the Order."

"Well, maybe Harry resented him for all of those years he _was_ an obnoxious git," he replied.

"Of course he did, but I always wondered why. Ron holds on to grudges, but Harry is very forgiving," she said with a worried frown, "I think it's the Slytherin thing. Potters, Weasleys—old Gryffindor families—are as prejudiced against Slytherins as Slytherins are against Gryffindors."

James lowered his eyes, suddenly feeling ashamed of the pranks he had played at school.

_He_ had started the life-lasting hatred between Snape and the Marauders, after all.

"Hey, you were young. We all make mistakes," she said softly, reading his mind and reaching out to hold his hand.

James raised his head and met large, worried coffee-colored eyes. Her small, delicate hand was warm, yet the contact sent shivers down his spine.

His throat went dry as he felt the atmosphere of the conversation change quite suddenly.

Hermione looked confused as her eyes focused on _his_ lips this time, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

He found himself inevitably pulled towards her...

She smelt of the rose parfume Harry had given her last Christmas...

_Harry._

He stopped approaching her and just contented himself with gazing into her beautiful eyes.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and watched him as though she was entranced by his features.

Instead of smirking like he would have at Hogwarts, James felt himself blush.

The door being opened with a bang interrupted the moment.

Hermione and James jumped apart just in time as a laughing Harry and Ron returned from their flying.

"Liar! I caught it sixty-eight times!" Harry protested, Lily's emerald eyes shining merrily.

"Yeah, out of what? _Three-hundred times_?" Ron snickered and shook his head before he acknowledged the couple that still sat on the couch. "Oh, hey there, I thought you would have gone to talk to Lily, 'Mione."

"Um, yeah—she is visiting Professor Snape, though," she answered, her eyes still a little unfocused.

"Ugh, I don't know why the hell she's friend with the old bat," Harry said, shaking his head in wonder. "Anyways, Hermione, I was going to take a stroll around the new gardens, want to come?"

"Sure!" the girl replied all too quickly as she jumped to her feet. "Just let me grab my sweater," she said, and didn't spare James a glance before she bolted to the hall, long brown braid bouncing behind her.

"I'll wait for you at the main door!" Harry yelled after her.

"Wow, she seems anxious to spend some alone time with you, mate," Ron chuckled and raised a suggestive eyebrow as he placed his broom near the door.

"Oh yes, she's an eager little thing," Harry grinned and winked at James, who suddenly felt very ill.

_This is my son, wanting to beat him to a bloody pulp is something I should _not_ be feeling._

Harry laughed and placed Aerian—the new custom-made broom he adored to the point he had given it (her, he insisted) a name of its own—next to Ron's.

He then took his jacket from the divan and left the room with his ginger-haired best friend, but not before shouting over his shoulder "Ah, and Dad, thanks for entertaining Hermione!"

It was a good thing Harry didn't turn to see his father wince.

Entertaining Hermione... his son's girlfriend. Right.

_Bloody hell._

The worse thing was, he looked forward to _entertaining_ her some more.

_Bloody. Effing. Hell._

-

_**TBC**_

* * *

_**A/N**__: I know last chapter I said this one would have __**much**__ more action. Well… it had some, didn't it? Much more action next chapter! MUCH more action the chapter after the next! By then you'll know why James is going to hell!_

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I already have more than a thousand hits for this chapter so I really demand more reviews, you lazy people!_

_So last time it didn't work very well, there must be something wrong with my wand:_

_**Imperio! Review!**_


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